


Five Minutes

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Supernatural Drabbles [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 22:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17010375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: Dean distracts you while you're studying.





	Five Minutes

“Put the books away,” Dean whispered. “Enough studying.” His fingers danced up and down your spine, tickling you.

“I can’t,” you said, trying and failing to push him away.

“Just give me ten minutes,” he purred. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

You dropped your pen to the bed and rolled to your back. “You have five,” you smiled.

Dean laughed, crawling across the bed until he was kneeling between your legs. His hands drifted up your thighs, gently caressing them, pushing them open. He settled over you, his hips pressing into yours, a wicked smile on his face. He pushed your shirt up, but not off. He dropped his head and his wet, hot mouth closed on your breast, his tongue just barely dancing over the nipple, his hips pushing into yours, the hard line of his cock pressing against you. He nipped at you, pulling your nipple between his teeth, biting gently.

Your back arched, pushing you closer to him. He chuckled low in the back of his throat, grinding his hips into yours, drawing a harsh gasp from you. His fingers slipped into your shorts, tracing over your damp folds.

“Hmm, naughty girl,” he whispered. “I don’t think you really want to study.” His middle finger slipped inside you, tilting in a “come here” gesture that had you immediately seeing stars, squirming as you tried to push your aching pussy against his questing fingers. He added a second finger, his lips catching yours in a heated kiss.

“Dean,” you gasped as a chill shot through you, competing with the heat now raging through every nerve ending.

His fingers moved and his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing it in slow, tight circles. You clutched at the blankets on the bed, your feet kicking wildly as the orgasm built and built, higher and higher until you were coming with a desperate moan.

Dean smiled, his lips moving over your jaw and throat, putting your clothes back in place. He placed a kiss in the center of your forehead, picked up your pen and put it in your hand.

“I’ll get you a drink,” he said.


End file.
